Steak. It’s what’s for dinner, or so the marketing department of The Beef Council says. But not in the W-T household. Alas…
A little background: My Dad owned a small grocery store in Chester, PA, and the family owned a gourmet food market in South Beach. I grew up on good meat—mostly beef and lamb—we were, until I was 11 a strictly Kosher household, so pork wasn’t part of my childhood, until…well, that’s another story for another time.
The family also owned a meat-processing and packing business in the area of shallow North Philly—near Girard Avenue, for those in the know—known as the “meat-packing district” (some day I might relate the story of beef kidneys and my senior prom, or the story about the time my Dad passed on the opportunity to become the sole distributor of hamburger to McDonald’s, but those are yet other stories for another time). My Dad and his brothers operated this business for the distribution of meat products to seven small grocery stores in Philadelphia, Chester, and Ardmore. But they kept all the best products they could get their hands on for themselves—mostly because the best products were priced out of the range of the neighborhoods where their stores were located.
So, great steaks, chops, and roasts were on the dinner plates several times a week. I had no idea what a privilege that was until I got older and had to buy my own groceries. But still…
But from a very young age—maybe six or seven—I was interested in investigating food and how to make it better. My mom was an awful cook—boiling spaghetti was a challenge—but thought she was a great one. I ended up adding spices and flavorings to her recipes when she wasn’t looking, and developed skills of using herbs and spices, and of being able to remember and repeat recipes. Mom always thought it was her cooking that tasted so great. In reality she didn’t know where in the kitchen the salt shaker lived.
Very early on I began experimenting with steak sauce; it turns out my Dad LOVED spicy foods (Mom didn’t), and the steaks he brought home were the very best that could be had. So I started messing with sauces, to find one that both he and I loved, and that packed not just flavor, but heat; I have since learned, from my chef/mentor, that it takes no talent to make food suicide-hot. Any fool with a bottle of hot sauce and a loose wrist can do that. The real skill is making spicy/hot food TASTE GREAT (this has become my kitchen mantra).
Eventually I settled on one sauce blend that struck just the right note for both of us. I’ve been both fooling with it and making it ever since, and I’ve pretty much got it down to a science now. And I no longer mess with the recipe. I believe it’s pretty much perfect.
You might try making it yourself, and let me know what you think. And the quantities of peppers—there are six different kinds in the sauce—are to your liking, but I’ve got to tell you, this one is pretty darn spot on.
Try it for yourself:
Cheffzilla’s Six-Pepper Steak Sauce
1 cup chili sauce (I like Heinz)
1/2 cup Heinz A-1 sauce
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon red pepper sauce (Tabasco or Frank’s?)
1 teaspoon Asian chili-sesame oil
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon granulated garlic
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons finely ground white pepper
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon Cayenne pepper (or more? This is where the heat comes from; the rest of the peppers are flavor)
Four to eight hours before you need the finished sauce, combine the first five ingredients—the liquids—in a medium bowl with the red pepper flakes, mix well, cover with plastic wrap for 1/2 – 1 hour and set aside.
Add the remaining ingredients, mix well, cover, and place in the fridge until ready to use. The sauce will keep in the fridge for up to three months, but use it up and make more.
I finally got to do some real cooking. I haven’t done much of that recently, what with us being empty nesters and all—both working, dogs and cats pretty much at war with each other, and my nicely blossoming indoor orchard of citrus trees. And then there’s the pending living-room remodel.
Sometimes there just isn’t much time left for real cooking. You know the kind I mean—where I actually get to start with making a stock, where I layer in the flavors thoughtfully one at a time, where I actually start with a found recipe and adjust and adapt it to my personal style and preference. Plus, since I’m now 50 pounds lighter than I was 11 months ago and plan to keep it that way, the choices I have from on-hand supplies is a bit different. Butter and flour as main ingredients aren’t much in the plan any more, so flavors and textures come from other, more creative places.
So there I was on a Friday evening, sipping quietly on a syrupy Zinfandel, and thinking through my dinner prep plan (yes, Virginia, we actual trained cooks think and make a plan).
Tonight’s menu was built around a tasty shrimp and white-bean stew with fresh basil and lemon zest, and a surprise. And it meant actually cooking!
Heaven in a kitchen.
E thought it was pretty good. I thought it was one of the best dishes I’ve eaten in a very long time. So good that I just had to write about it here, I haven’t been so inspired in a while, but tonight’s dish just struck that chord—definitely a major-seventh in D. I hope you’ll try this one. It’s a winner!
SHRIMP AND WHITE-BEAN STEW
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 medium onion, chopped fine
1 pound jumbo shell-on shrimp (21-26 count), peeled, deveined, and tails removed, shells reserved
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons sugar
¼ cup fresh basil, coarsely chopped
2 (15-ounce) cans cannellini beans (1 can drained and rinsed, 1 can left undrained)
2 teaspoons Thai fish sauce
1 (14.5-ounce) can diced tomatoes, drained
4 garlic cloves, peeled, halved lengthwise, and sliced thin
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon grated lemon zest plus 1 tablespoon juice
1. Dissolve sugar and 1 tablespoon salt in 1 quart cold water in large container. Submerge shrimp in brine, cover, and refrigerate for 15 minutes. Remove shrimp from brine and pat dry with paper towels.
2. While the shrimp is brining, heat 1 tablespoon oil in 12-inch skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add shrimp shells and cook, stirring frequently, until they begin to turn spotty brown and skillet starts to brown, 5 to 6 minutes. Remove skillet from heat and carefully add 1 cup water. When bubbling subsides, return skillet to medium heat and simmer gently, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes. Strain mixture through colander set over large bowl. Discard shells and reserve liquid (you should have about 1/4 cup). Wipe skillet clean with paper towels.
3. Heat 2 tablespoons oil. Add the onion, garlic, anchovies, pepper flakes, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in now-empty skillet over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Add 1 can drained beans, 1 can beans and their liquid, tomatoes, and shrimp stock and bring to simmer. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes.
4. Reduce heat to low, add shrimp, cover, and cook, stirring once during cooking, until shrimp are just opaque, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove skillet from heat and stir in basil and lemon zest and juice. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to serving dish, drizzle with remaining 1 tablespoon oil, and serve.
I need to talk about stir-fry sauce.
This has been a source of consternation for E and I for several years now, because we love to stir fry. It’s simple, quick, useful, healthy, and much better than calling for takeout whenever the mood strikes (which for me happens way more often than it should. It is also a fabulous way to use up those on-the-edge things that live in your vegetable bin–half an onion in a plastic container, old scallions, bunches of cilantro, last week’s broccoli, that remaining half head of cabbage, celery and carrots you’d like to refresh…
We have tried to incorporate a stir fry in our weekly menu plan, but sometimes we just seem to avoid it because it’s hard to get the sauce right consistently–and there’s not much worse in meal prep than a bad stir-fry sauce.
It’s so simple you’ll wonder why you haven’t run across this before–I know I did. But now I have the solution, courtesy of Pinterest and a website called buildyourbite-dot-com and it’s curator, Joy Shull.
It’s perfect. Cruise on over there and have a look (Www.buildyourbite.com).
Thank me later,
So here’s the plan for the perfect–and adaptable–stir fry sauce. I have made it two different ways, regular and extra-spicy. Joy’s recommendation is to make it this way, uncooked and storable, and to always start your stir fry with fresh minced garlic and ginger. I concur. But I have found that it is a brilliantly conceived sauce base to add rice wine, peanuts, fresh basil or Thai basil, fish sauce, Star-anise, Chinese Five Spice, hoisin or plum sauce–whatever flavors your heart desires. And, of course, your favorite protein. A little goes a long way–about 2 tablespoons is right for a 2-4-serving stir fry. Too much is probably too much. Taste as you go.
I particularly like it on shredded cabbage with a tiny little bit of red onion, but that’s just me.
Just stir fry. Often.
1/3 cup plus 2 Tbsp light soy sauce (gluten free if you wish)
1/4 cup toasted sesame-seed oil (hot-chili-sesame oil for the spicy version)
1 tablespoon cornstarch
Add the soy sauce and cornstarch to a Mason jar and shake WELL until combined.
Remove the lid, add the sesame oil and shake WELL again, to completely combine.
Then commence stir frying: start with a bit of peanut or other neutral oil in a HOT pan or wok, add the garlic and ginger and stir for ONLY 30 SECONDS, then immediately start adding your other ingredients, starting with the hardest or firmest, and working toward the most delicate. If including a protein, do that first, remove to a plate and set aside before adding produce.
When the produce is almost done–still crisply is best–add the protein back, toss to combine, and add the sauce and whatever other flavor ingredients you wish. Toss to coat and until the sauce starts to thicken. Then turn off the heat. My chef/mentor taught me to always add one tablespoon rice wine–off heat–and toss before serving. Take that for what it’s worth.
The stir-fry sauce can be stored at room temp in an airtight glass container, but must be shaken well before using, because the cornstarch will settle out.
Mushroom soup: love it or hate it. Me? LOVE IT!!!
So I just had a hankering. Did you ever have a hankering?
Something that happened today–I can’t even remember what it was–that reminded me of growing up. I got to thinking about some memories of when I was a kid in Philly. Ball in the street, summer or winter, sledding on the Weiner’s hill behind the house, smoking cigarettes in my friend’s garage–way too young. And soup. My Mom always had soup ready to eat.
Now I have to go on record here with full disclosure–my Mom was a lousy cook–until, that is, until she started taking cooking classes after I left the house; she couldn’t take classes when I was growing up because I was a handful, and she never seemed to have time.
But soup? She could keep soup on the table. Campbell’s was always plentiful–tomato, chicken noodle, vegetable beef, cream of mushroom. Always cream of mushroom. It was a comfort food for me.
Those chefs at the Campbell’s Soup Company in Camden, NJ sure knew the way to my heart. And my Mom was surely smart enough to know when to open a can of soup.
When I went to work in the big kitchen in South Beach, what I remembered most was soup, and luckily enough, the market was legendary for its soups–they always had fifteen or twenty different soups in the display cases for your dining pleasure. Matzoh ball, three kinds of vegetable, red and white clam chowders–if you could suggest a soup they didn’t make they’d have it for sale within a week.
So I decided to make the soup (not sous) chef my best friend. I watched. I listened. I learned. And it became a specialty for me (have you had the chance to attend one of our (alas, late lamented) annual soup parties? Maybe some day we’ll revive the soup party. We’re working on ideas.
Anyhow, I digress.
Mushroom soup. I had a hankering. So I cruised the Internet for a mushroom soup that struck a chord. And I found one (actually, I found many, but I chose one to make that wasn’t too labor-intensive and would strike just the perfect note on a fall afternoon.
I massaged the recipe a bit–as I am wont to do–and came up with a luscious, creamy, dreamy chilly afternoon mushroom soup. Try this one at home…
- 1 large white onion – diced
- 2 8-ounce packages white button mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
- 1 8-ounce package baby portabello mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
- 10 stalks fresh thyme – leaves removed
- 2 cups vegetable broth–organic if you have it
- 1 tbs. AP or tapioca flour or potato starch – don’t use corn starch here
- 1 cup milk – if you want it vegan use almond, soy, or coconut milk
- 1 15-ounce can white beans
- 1 dried bay leaf
- 1/2 tbs. fish sauce, or liquid aminos if you want it vegan
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- freshly ground white and black pepper
- In a large saucepan, over medium heat, add the diced onions. Allow to sweat while slicing the mushrooms. About 5-7 minutes.
- Move onions to the sides of the saucepan and add mushrooms, allow to cook 5 minutes uncovered.
- Stir the onions and mushrooms together. Add fresh thyme and allow to continue to cook, at least 10 minutes.
- You will notice a substantial amount of water has come out of the mushrooms, and they are reduced in volume by half.
- Add the bay leaf, the salt and the liquid aminos to the mushrooms
- Place the white beans and broth in a blender and liquefy the beans. Add the bean/broth and the milk to the mushrooms. Stir to mix
- Whisk the flour or potato starch into 1/2 cup cold water to completely dissolve the starch. Slowly add the starch slurry to the soup, stirring as you do. Mix well to combine the ingredients
- Reduce to a slow simmer and cook for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste and add freshly ground black pepper to taste.
So let me tell you about making soup in August.
I mean, who makes—let alone eats—soup in August? Except that, in August the garden out back is simply bursting with wonderful stuff, more than we newly empty nesters can possibly consume in a year when home entertaining is pretty much taboo.
Out back I have five varieties of tomatoes, both heirlooms from the Landis Valley Farm Museum Seed Project, and Camparis and San Marzanos I started from saved seeds. We simply can’t consume all these tomatoes ourselves as they ripen, so I have to be creative and productive, and be ready to squirrel away tomatoes for the winter months, when the tomatoes at the grocery store come from South America. Yech! Plus, there’s the herb garden—thyme, sage, oregano, parsley, chives, sweet and Thai basil…
Okay, okay. So I made copious quarts of sauce last week (recipe here: https://jeffskitchen.net/2013/08/25/canning-a-fabulous-marinara-sauce-quickly-and-simply/). And a batch of chutney. And admittedly, I will harvest, roast, peel, and can the last of the San Marzanos and Amish Pastes when the chill arrives—if it ever arrives—so that I have them to cook with in late fall and winter. And there is panzanella (recipe here: https://jeffskitchen.net/2018/07/02/authentic-tuscan-panzanella/ ) to be enjoyed while the big slicers are around.
This here recipe is about as good as soup recipes can get, especially if you like tomato soup. It’s not that “just-add-water-and-serve-with-grilled-cheese” creamy stuff from concentrate (although I have to admit, that’s pretty good too). And it’s not cold summer Gazpacho (although that’s pretty good too if you like cucumbers (recipe here: https://jeffskitchen.net/2013/07/16/cheffzillas-gazpacho-with-a-kick/).
But it’s a warm and flavorful chunky Mediterranean-style garden soup that tastes great, is completely vegan, freezes beautifully, and is even good cold.
So, if your garden is overflowing with tomatoes, if a bunch show up in the break room at work, if you can’t resist the huge piles of giant fresh tomatoes at the farmer’s market, or if you just want something sweet and swell, try this soup. It’s even one of the easiest soups you’ll ever make.
• 3 lb Roma tomatoes, halved, or whatever assortment you have on hand
• 2 to 3 carrots, cut into small chunks
• 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil (I used home made garlic-infused EVOO)
• 2 teaspoons salt and 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 2 medium yellow onions, chopped
• 5-10 garlic cloves (to taste), smashed (I used a whole head of garlic)
• 1 14-oz can crushed tomatoes (Muir Fire-roasted, if you can find them)
• 1 cup packed, fresh basil leaves, coarsely chopped
• 3 to 4 sprigs fresh thyme, or 2 tsp dried thyme leaves
• 2-3 sprigs fresh oregano, or 1 tsp dried oregano
• 1 tsp sweet paprika (you could use smoked paprika if you like, but I think it’s one too many flavors)
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 2 1/2 cups vegetable stock
• Juice of 1 fresh lime
Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
• In a large mixing bowl, combine tomatoes, garlic, and carrot pieces. Add a generous drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Toss to combine.
• Transfer to a large baking sheet and spread well in one layer. Roast in heated oven for about 45 minutes. When ready, remove from the heat and set aside for about 10 minutes to cool.
• Transfer the roasted tomatoes, garlic, and carrots, and all the juice to a food processor fitted with a blade, and blend till just barely chunky.
• In a large enamel or stainless (NOT ALUMINUM!!!) soup pot, heat 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking. Add onions and cook for about 3 minutes, then add salt and pepper and cook briefly until golden. Don’t let the onions burn.
• Pour the roasted tomato mixture into the cooking pot. Stir in canned tomatoes, vegetable stock, basil, thyme, and spices. Season with a little kosher salt and black pepper. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and cover part-way. Let simmer for about 30 minutes or so.
• Remove the thyme springs, squeeze in the lime juice, and transfer tomato basil soup to serving bowls. If you like, add a generous drizzle of olive oil. Serve with your favorite crusty bread or grilled pieces of French baguette. Enjoy!
It’s almost summer.
My favorite time of the year. Yes Friends, I am a summer animal. There’s not much that I can think of that I enjoy more than a great summer day with my feet in the sand, the ocean pounding in my ears, and an outrageous mystery thriller or six to put my brain on pause (well, there IS one thing, but hey, this is a family website).
Summer means fresh produce growing in the garden—we’ve got sugar snap peas; three kinds tomatoes (who doesn’t); three kinds peppers (two hot and one sweet); eggplants; lots of romaine lettuce; scallions; and herbs, herbs, herbs. The rose bushes are in full bloom, the grass is growing way too fast (so are the weeds); and the air conditioners have been put in place for the ladies of the house.
Summer means the kids are off from school and home all the time…oh, wait…
And for me the summer means pickles. I mean to say I make pickles. By the bushel full. If you know me at all, you likely know that pickles means kosher-style, vinegary and garlic-laden, salty, spicy, dilly, genuine New York deli-style pickles. I have been getting my cucumbers, Kirbys and baby English cukes, from our favorite neighborhood farmer’s markets, Brook Lawn Farm Market in Neffsville and Harvest Lane Farm Market, on Oregon Road in Manheim Township. I make them all summer long, as long as the Kirbys are available, because they’re a great low-calorie snack, and because they replace some of the salt I lose when walking Stella the dog in the summer heat.
I’m following my mother’s recipe—about the only thing she made in the summertime, because it doesn’t require cooking—and the pickles are every bit as good as the ones we got at the Epicure or from Murray’s in Merion, and way better than the ones I get now at the grocery store. Because I can determine just how much garlic, just how much vinegar, just how much spices. I did riff a bit on Mom’s recipe, because she didn’t like them as spicy as I do. But when you read the recipe you can back off on the heat or the vinegar if you wish, but they will be…well…different.
But as I always do, I’ll share the recipe with you here as I make them—no cooking required, just patience. And I promise that if you like real New York-style kosher dills, you’ll get them.
Here’s the road map:
New York Deli-style Straight Outta’-the-barrel Kosher Dills
- 8-9 Kirby cucumbers
- 2 Tablespoons pickling or kosher salt (pickling salt is better)
- 24 ounces BOTTLED water (DON’T USE LOCAL SINK WATER—IMPORTANT!)
- 8 ounces white vinegar
- 4 (or more or less—you get to decide here) cloves fresh garlic, smashed, skins on
- 4 Tablespoons pickling spice
- 2 teaspoons dill seeds (you could use fresh dill, but trust me, the seeds are a better option—you will be fermenting, and fresh dill could be a problem)
- 2 dried Thai chili peppers (optional, makes the pickles spicier)—I grow my own and dry them; you can get them at the Asian market.
- Wash the cucumbers well and cut off both ends—just barely nip them—about ¼ inch, but this is important.
- Stir the water, vinegar, and salt together until the salt is completely dissolved.
- Place 2 cloves garlic, 2 Tbsp pickling spice, 1 tsp. dill seeds and 1dried pepper in each of 2 quart-size containers. I use plastic containers I’ve saved from buying dill pickles from the refrigerator case at Aldi (see photo)—they’re the best I’ve found—or restaurant take-out quart-size soup containers (also saved). Wide-mouth canning jars are okay too, but it’s harder to get the pickles out later
- Cut the cucumbers in half or quarters lengthwise and pack them the into the containers. Pack them as tight as you can, so they won’t float when you add the brine. You could do them whole, but you’ll get fewer pickles per batch. If you like your pickles whole, use a half-gallon or gallon wide-mouth container, and keep the ingredient ratios exactly the same; if you make a gallon at a time, double the ingredients. The important thing is the salt-to liquid ratio—it must be 2 tablespoons salt to each quart of liquid.
- Add the brine to each container, leaving 1/2-inch head space. Make sure the cucumbers are completely submerged in the brine. They will want to float to the surface. Try getting another quarter cucumber in to make them tighter, or weigh them down with a fermenting weight or a small zipper-close bag with water in it. It’s important that they stay submerged, or the exposed ends will mold, and ruin the whole batch.
- Place the lids LOOSELY on top of the container, so the jars can breathe and the pickles can ferment. You don’t want to close the lids, as this will prevent the fermenting process from happening.
- Store the pickles in a cool dark location for anywhere from 24 hours to 7 days, depending on how crunchy or soft you like your pickles—the longer they ferment, the softer they get, and also the more intense the flavor. I ferment mine for 48 hours; I like the crunch and the flavor of 2-day pickles. Remove the weight, close the lids tight, and place them in the fridge.
The pickles will keep in the fridge for about a month, but they’ll never last that long. They will continue to get more flavorful as they sit in the brine.
Mother’s Day 2020. I’ve been craving apple fritters. Like the ones I get on Friday mornings at Shady Maple Bakery in our wonderful Central Market.
But alas, it’s still “stay-at-home” here in south central PA.
And I don’t deep-fry (it’s a choice, not an inability).
So I spent an hour cruising Pinterest for an apple-fritter recipe I could love, that my family would appreciate, and that would make a perfect Mother’s Day treat for my favorite mother—my wife, Ellen.
Apple fritters hold a very special place in my heart (there are a couple of different takes on apple fritters further on down this site), as a special southern cook from my childhood whipped up a batch in her cast-iron skillet every Sunday morning. Never had better fritters in my life, but the general desire for them is stamped into my DNA.
Okay, I know that for a seventy-something like me they are probably poison, but still…there isn’t much better on a Sunday morning than a still-warm apple (or as I grow older, blueberry) fritter. To be fair, I used almond milk instead of whole milk, Earth Balance instead of butter, and I skipped the glaze (the ingredients for which are in the recipe–mix them up and glaze the top of the bread–I won’t tell). But please feel free to make the full-rich version if you wish.
Still, the craving is strong, and with the current lock down I’m fast walking close to four miles a day (rationalization, I know, I know…).
So, how do I satisfy that craving, stay within my dietary lane, and make everyone in the house happy? I give you…
Country-style Apple Fritter Bread
- 1/3 cup light brown sugar
- 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, divided
- 2 large apples any kind, peeled and diced small, but not fine
- 2/3 cup plus 2 Tablespoons granulated sugar, divided
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or butter substitute, softened
- 2 large eggs, room temp
- 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 cup whole, almond, or soy milk, room temp
- For the glaze:
- 1/2 cup of powdered sugar
- 1-3 tablespoons milk, half-and-half, or cream, depending on thickness of glaze wanted. For more apple fritter-style—like apple fritter donuts—use more milk for a thinner glaze that you can pour over the whole loaf.
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Use a 9×5-inch loaf pan and spray with non-stick spray or line with parchment and spray with non-stick spray to lift the bread out of the pan to cool.
- Mix 1/3 cup brown sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon together in a small bowl, and set aside.
- In another small bowl toss the apples with 2 tablespoons granulated sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Set aside.
- Combine & whisk 1 & 1/2 cups flour and 1 & 3/4 teaspoons baking powder together in a medium bowl and set aside.
- In large bowl, beat 2/3 cup granulated sugar and 1/2 cup softened butter together using an electric mixer until smooth and creamy.
- Beat in 2 eggs, one at a time until blended; add the vanilla extract and mix in.
- Add the flour mixture into creamed butter mixture and mix until blended.
- Mix 1/2 cup milk into batter and continue mixing until smooth.
- Pour half the batter into the prepared loaf pan; add half the chopped apple mixture.
- Sprinkle 1/2 of the brown sugar/cinnamon mixture you set aside earlier, on top of apple layer.
- Pour the remaining batter over apple layer and top with remaining chopped apples, then sprinkle the remaining brown sugar/cinnamon mixture over the top.
- Lightly pat apples into batter; swirl brown sugar mixture through apples using knife or spoon.
- Bake in the preheated oven until a toothpick inserted in the center of the loaf comes out clean, approximately 60-70 minutes.
- To make glaze, mix 1/2 cup powdered sugar and 1 to 3 tablespoons milk or cream together until well mixed. (Place mixture in microwave for 10 seconds to make it easier to pour, if necessary).
- Let loaf rest in pan for about 15 minutes before removing from the pan; then let it cool completely (OR NOT!) on a cooling rack. Drizzle with glaze.
- If you want more glaze, make a double batch. 🙂
Friday in the Quarantine Kitchen…
Okay, this one’s easy, it’s really good and hearty, and it’s made from found stuff in the fridge, freezer, or cupboards. I should point out that the base of this is a stock that I made back at Thanksgiving. On Black Friday, when the fam all headed out at 5 am to the outlets I a) slept in; and b) threw the turkey bones, and other leavings in a pot with lots of water, an onion, a celery stalk, a carrot, and some garlic. I do this every year—you should, too (I also do that with all my vegetable peelings and scraps to make a veggie stock). I simmer the stocks until four quarts of water are reduced to two, then pour the strained stock into Chinese-restaurant soup containers and freeze them. So I always have “no-sodium stock on hand when the need arises.
In this time of “Love in the Time of Corona,” E wanted to use up old stuff to make room for the restock we were about to do because of the “stay-at-home” thing. So a-hunting we did go.
She found stock in the freezer and a bag full of undetermined turkey things (they ended up being a whole thigh and some bits picked from the backbone—including the “oysters”), and asked me to do something with them, something the kids might like (have I mentioned that we currently have two college kids attending school while they are living in our “empty nest?”).
Most everything in the soup is “found;” I simply used up stuff. It’s the best way to go. Here’s what I did:
2 Tablespoons garlic-infused olive oil (I make it myself–see NOTE*)
1 medium onion
2 celery hearts (leftovers from something else)
2 large carrots
1 teaspoon dried thyme (from last summer’s patio garden)
1/2 teaspoon dried dill weed (ditto)
2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 bag of turkey remains (also previously discussed—about 2 cups diced)
1/2 cup elbow macaroni (the bottom of a box—too little for a normal recipe). Any noodle will do, even lasagna noodles, broken up.
1 cup white beans (left over from last week’s amazing bean/pizza casserole—March 23, two posts previous).
1. Heat a large soup pot over medium heat; add the olive oil to the hot pot.
2. Halve then onion, cut 1 inch from the top of the carrots, and remove 1 inch of the celery from the root end (shave off the brown end). Place them all, cut side down, in the hot oil and cook, unmoved, until they begin to brown.
3. Remove the vegetables from the pot and chop them—and the remaining carrots and celery—into bite-size pieces and return them to the pot. Cook them, stirring frequently, until they begin to soften, 7-10 minutes.
4. Add the flour to the oil in the pot and cook, stirring constantly, until it begins to brown. Add the thyme and dill and stir one more minute.
5. Add the stock (mine was still somewhat frozen), stirring until the flour is incorporated—about two minutes. Then add the turkey, cut into bite-size pieces. Cover, reduce the heat, and simmer
, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes.
6. Bring to a rolling boil and add the noodles (I used elbow macaroni—it’s what I had in the cupboard), stirring occasionally to prevent sticking to the bottom of the pot, and cooking to the time recommended on the box.
7. Place the beans in the cup of a blender; Add 2 cups of the hot stock and blend until completely mashed up (or do it in a bowl with an immersion blender—I did). Return the bean/stock mixture to the pot and simmer 15 minutes, mixing well.
8. Serve with crusty bread.
This soup stores well in the fridge for about three days (no longer!), and gets better as it sits. And, it’s creamy, but the kids won’t know that it’s from the beans (plus, it’s a little extra protein).
*NOTE: Garlic-infused olive oil: peel and smash the cloves from one head of garlic. Place 1 cup extra-virgin olive oil and the smashed garlic cloves in a saucepan. Cook, uncovered, over medium heat until the oil begins to bubble. Turn the heat down to a low simmer and heat for 30 minutes, turning the garlic cloves once, until they just begin to brown; don’t let them burn. If they are browning too quickly turn the heat down a bit. After 30 minutes, turn the heat off and let the oil cool for another 30 minutes. Funnel the oil through two layers of paper towel (or a coffee filter) into an opaque or dark colored glass bottle. Close the bottle with an air-tight lid. Light and air are the enemies of good olive oil.
Thursday in Jeff’s Quarantine Kitchen…
In today’s episode I will compete my onion trilogy—caramelized red onion chutney. So far I’ve done a sweet-onion jam and a shallot marmalade. To complete the circuit, I think a chutney is called for, so here is the one I’ve chosen, mostly because this is what I have on hand. Chutneys like to have a fruit base—mango or peach or pear—but it’s not the season for those things, and I do have a bunch of Granny Smith apples in the fridge and lots of red onions, ergo…
I’ve been making chutney for several years now, and they’ve been met with some amount of positive feedback. Additionally, I really do like the flavor of sweet and savory condiments—oyster and hoisin sauces being among my favorites—and chutney is a wonderful extension of those culinary favorites.
This one is a simple spread, delicious on meats, fish, and cheeses, mixed into a savory crepe (I just got that idea the other day from a Facebook post), or just about anyplace where a flavorful dollop of goodness will make a sandwich taste better. The trick with this recipe—as with most things onion—is to go low and slow; be patient with the process. Burnt onions are no one’s favorite flavor.
So, caramelized red onion chutney with apples is just the ticket. Here’s how it goes:
4 large red onions, quartered and thinly sliced
1 Granny Smith apple, minced
1 fresh or 2 dried red chili peppers (I used dried Thai chilies), sliced and seeded
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 bay leaves (from my very own bay laurel tree) ——- >
2 sprigs fresh or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons light brown sugar
A few turns or 1/4 teaspoon finely ground WHITE pepper
2 teaspoons mustard seeds
1. Slice the onions and chili peppers thinly.
2. Place the olive oil, onions, apple, pepper slices, bay leaves and thyme in a large, heavy non-reactive pot and mix well to coat with the olive oil. Bring to a slow boil, then cover the pot, reduce the heat, and cook at low temperature for 20 minutes, stirring every five minutes to prevent the onions from sticking. Remove the lid and cook for 30 minutes more, stirring frequently—again to prevent sticking.
3. Remove the bay leaves and the thyme stalks, and add the vinegar, sugar, white pepper, and mustard seeds; stir well to mix thoroughly, reduce the heat to a low simmer, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid is reduced to a thick, syrupy consistency.
4. Spoon into sterilized jars and lids, leaving a half-inch headspace, and remove the bubbles from the product. Either process in a water bath for 15 minutes or cool completely and refrigerate. If you process the jars in a water bath, after the 15-minute process time turn off the heat and allow the jars to sit in the water for five minutes undisturbed, then place on a wire rack or a towel and allow to sit undisturbed tor 24 hours. Canned chutney will keep about a year, but it won’t last that long.
You may be tempted to open and use the chutney immediately, but it will be much, MUCH better if you allow it to sit in storage for a month before opening. this allows the flavors to marry, and the product will be way better
Today in Jeff’s Quarantine Kitchen…
The New York Times Cooking section (@NYTCooking, recipe by Ali Slagle) calls this dish “Cheesy White-Bean Tomato Bake.” So I gotta’ tell ya’ folks, that title just doesn’t grab my attention.
Nope! Not even a little bit.
Let’s be honest here. If you saw that title on a recipe, would you be compelled to make it for your family? The same night you stumbled across it on someone’s Pinterest page? Not me.
What caught my attention was the photo, proving once again that a picture is worth…well, you know.
What it looked like in the photo was a bubbly, crispy, pebbly, yummy-looking pizza. And who can’t resist reading a recipe that is topped with a beauteous picture of a steaming-hot, bubbling mass of mozzarella? Certainly not me.
But reading further, what I discovered was that this dish looked like it might be the best-looking white-bean stew I have ever seen; it was, after all, white-bean stew that had me browsing all those Pinterest pages in the first place. But I just couldn’t find one that would suit the dreadfully picky tastes that are currently taking up residence and space in our empty nest.
But this dish looked so good in the photo that if it had been topped with pepperoni or caramelized onions and peppers, I might have been tempted to break out an actual Corona or two (see what I did there?). In fact, it looked so good that I decided right then and there that it was going to be dinner tonight; I already had the white beans soaking on the stove top and I had been, so far, uninspired.
So, cheesy white-bean pizza.
It’s not really a pizza; there isn’t a beautifully thin and crispy crust—actually, it’s more like a protein-laden, gluten-free, deep-dish thing, a pizza in name only. Rather it’s a casserole masquerading as a pizza-flavored white-bean stew. Plus, if you make it right the bottom just might get a crispy crust anyway.
And it’s delicious. You can make it simple—just the base ingredients, or add whatever toppings and fillings that suit your whimsy; I’m thinking next time I might go Tex-Mex-style, adding a can of chopped green chilies to the tomatoes or replacing the tomatoes with salsa, adding a jolt of cilantro and using Jack cheese instead of mozzarella. Just imagine the possibilities.
And try this one at home. Here’s the plan…
- ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 3 fat garlic cloves, thinly sliced
- 3 tablespoons tomato paste
- 2 (15-ounce) cans white beans, drained and rinsed
- ½ cup boiling water
- Kosher salt and black pepper
- 2 cups washed baby spinach
- 1 8-ounce can crushed tomatoes
- A few fresh basil leaves
- ⅓ pound mozzarella, coarsely grated (about 1 1/3 cups)
- Very thin slices of red onion, or Caramelized onion jam for topping (see recipe from 3/17)
- Heat the oven to 475 degrees. In a 10-inch ovenproof (I used cast iron) skillet, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Fry the garlic until it’s lightly golden, about 1 minute. Stir in the tomato paste (be careful of splattering) and fry for 30 seconds, reducing the heat as needed to prevent the garlic from burning.
- Add the beans, water, tomatoes, spinach, and generous pinches of salt and pepper and stir to combine. Sprinkle the cheese evenly over the top, spread the onion jam (or thinly sliced red onions) over the cheese, then bake until the cheese has melted and browned in spots, 5 to 10 minutes. If the top is not as toasted as you’d like, run the skillet under the broiler for a minute or 2. Serve at once.
PS: and by the way, we fed the sourdough starter again this morning, with three tablespoons of flour and two tablespoons of water (dechlorinated, remember?). It’s growing. In fact, it looks like any day now it might take over the kitchen.